


41st & Beaumont

by augopher



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, City Bus Driver Derek, College Student Stiles, First Kiss, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Hero Derek, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pansexual stiles, Pining Derek, Slow Burn, minor homophobic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/augopher/pseuds/augopher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek drives a city bus, and several times a week, has the pleasure of driving Mr. 41st & Beaumont (Stiles) to and from college. He likes the guy, and they exchange pleasantries (You know, the 'Hello.' 'How are you?' kind of things), but Derek never says a thing of real importance, until one day...he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	41st & Beaumont

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xixien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xixien/gifts).



Derek slowed to a stop at the bus shelter. Bored and antsy at the drivers' lounge, he'd left after only a few minutes, resulting in arriving to his first stop of the route ten minutes ahead of schedule. He put the bus in park and pulled out his book to pass the time.

Sure enough, seven minutes later, the only passenger who ever got on the bus at this stop for this particular trip climbed the steps (Okay that was not entirely accurate. Sometimes the guy rode with his brother, roommate, friend? Derek had never figured out which). Mr. 41st & Beaumont, or as Derek's sister, Laura preferred to call him whenever she teased Derek about him, "Derek's Future Husband." Laura was a terrible person.

Mr.  41st & Beaumont (Derek really should learn his name or at least abbreviate.... Mr. FF&B--yeah that's better), New York Mets travel mug in hand,  placed his bus pass to the reader. Though he'd never learned the guy's name, Derek had surmised that Mr.  FF&B was a student at Beacon State University. The college issued semester riding pass sort of gave that away, along with the backpack and textbooks.

 "Good Evening.  How are you today?" Mr. FF&B made his customary pleasantries.  


"No complaints, and yourself?"

"Midterms are killing me, Man."

"Sorry to hear that. Good luck on them all." He pulled the bus away from the stop.

"Thanks." Mr. FF&B took his usual seat in the middle of the bus, stuck in his earbuds, and pulled out a textbook--just like he did every Tuesday and Thursday evening. The guy took the Eastbound 04:45 trip twice a week without fail and the return trip home at 09:10 (Plus also the Westbound 03:15 trip Monday and Wednesday, and both the Eastbound 02:30 and Westbound 05:20 trips on Friday as well. What?  So Derek had Mr. FF&B's schedule memorized. Sue him).

Derek might have had a tiny little crush on the guy. How could he not? Mr. FF&B was adorable with his doe eyes the color of bourbon, smattering of moles, and those deliciously broad shoulders. He even had this nerdy sort of Peter Parker charm that Derek found irresistible.

The problem wasn't so much that Derek didn't think the guy was into men. No, that part, Derek was sure of. He recognized the pink, yellow, and blue pride flag on his backpack as well as the Human Rights Campaign patch. Neither was it a problem that the guy might not be single. Several overheard conversations about his sad lack of a love life confirmed that. No, the problem fell solely on Derek's shoulders. He had serious trust issues when it came to dating. Being used and manipulated more than once by people he'd been involved with, hindered his willingness to put himself out there again.

Oh, and by tiny crush, Derek meant major crush.

If Derek could tell time by Mr. FF&B's choice of this trip, then the same could be said of the group that boarded the bus at 32nd & Edgewood. The Homophobic Asshat Douchebag Trio, or HAD Trio as Derek referred to them in his head, made sure to sit as close as possible to Mr. FF&B every time they saw him, and more than once, Derek had overheard their vulgar hate speech filter up to the front of the bus.  Several times, he'd had to ask them to please refrain from using such language. Not only was it disrespectful to the guy, but it made the other passengers uncomfortable. So far, Mr.  FF&B had been civil, mostly choosing to ignore them, even if Derek could practically see the smoke coming from the guy's ears.

Today, however, the ride would pass without incident.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Derek rubbed his shoulders as he sat idling at the bus station on campus. He checked his watch: 08:54. The bus, already filled with a few people, needed to sit for another five minutes before he could depart. It had been a really tiring day, and this was the last trip of his shift. Thank god.

"Hey, long day?"

Derek looked up to see Mr. FF&B smiling at him, those gorgeous eyes bright and earnest. "Very. You?"

"Glad that class is over. I freaking hate night classes. It should be illegal to have classes over three hours in length. Especially at night."

"What class is it?"

"Norse mythology, which by itself shouldn't be boring. Vikings were awesome. But the professor has the most monotonous voice. I swear, he only has three vocal pitches, all of them too quiet to hear. The lecture hall is huge, right? And he wears this microphone, but he can’t figure out how to adjust the volume, so I can hardly hear a word he says.”

Derek chuckled. “How ever do you manage to sit through a class that long like that?”

“Ah,” Mr. FF&B shook his phone, “Clash of Clans, Words With Friends, Minecraft. Basically anything that passes the time.”

“And you’re not worried about missing any material?”

He smirked. “No, get this, the guy reads from his slides, the very same ones he sends to the class website a week in advance so we can make sure to do the readings. Essentially, I don’t even need to show up to class, but the prof takes attendance. I should just start bringing a flask. Might make class more interesting.” Mr. FF&B gave Derek a nod and took his seat.

Derek noticed, for the first time actually, that the guy purposely sat on the opposite side of the bus instead of the side behind him. Huh. How did he miss that over the course of three years? What? He didn’t mention that the guy had taken Derek’s route for three years now? Yeah, it was pretty sad that in three years of driving the guy to and from the college multiple times a week, Derek had not once thought to ask his name.

He was just about to pull away from the stop when the HAD Trio climbed up the steps. Since the bus was fairly empty, they had several choices for seats, but chose instead to sit in front of, behind and next to Mr. FF&B, effectively surrounding him. Derek caught the guy’s eye roll in the mirror, but could not hear the words being said.

However, several stops into the route, he began to notice their level of obnoxiousness was far more aggressive tonight. Instead of his usual tight-lipped civility, Mr. FF&B actually looked uncomfortable and a little nervous. Worried about the possibility of a physical altercation, Derek picked up his radio to call dispatch. The noisy bus gave him just enough privacy to complete the call without alerting the HAD Trio. “This is driver 6511 opening a potential incident report. Over.”

“This is dispatch. Go ahead 6511.”

“I have three passengers who are harassing a fourth passenger. All four are regular riders, and I have, on multiple occasions needed to ask them to watch their language around this passenger. Today, they are being more belligerent and vulgar than usual, and I am worried their harassment might turn physical. Request to keep incident open just in case I need to eject a rider or require police intervention. Over.” He waited for a response. He’d never needed to throw a passenger off his bus before, and it wasn’t the sort of thing he ever wanted to have to do, but well, Mr. FF&B was a nice guy and didn’t deserve this, no one did really.

“Hey Fairy, I’m talking to you! How does it feel to know you’re going to hell?” One of the HAD Trio shouted as Mr. FF&B managed to push out of his seat into the aisle and relocate to a seat with no free seats around it.

Derek grabbed the microphone, the same one he used to announce each stop. “We’ve been over this before guys. Please refrain from such language on this bus. It is disrespectful to the rest of the passengers, and your volume poses a safety hazard.”

He expected them to cease like they had in the past, but this time they had other ideas.

“Well it’s a free country, Man. I got first amendment rights.”

Derek took the mic again. “Well purchasing a ticket to ride this vehicle means you have to abide by the rules of conduct. Your language and behavior right now is in violation of rule 3B, which prohibits unwanted or threatening language towards other passengers and interferes with their use and enjoyment of the bus. This includes obscene, threatening, offensive, or “hate” speech. Please refrain from using such language on my bus, or I will have to ask you to leave. Don’t make me do that.”

To his relief, they sat down, and he got five stops of a reprieve until they started up again. He was just about to make another request when he saw them actually push Mr. FF&B. Once more, he grabbed the radio. “Driver 6511 again. Request to eject previously mentioned three passengers.” He did not have to wait long for the okay to come through the line. “Okay, I asked you to stop it already, and you’ve refused. Please grab your things and get off the bus.”

“Dude, you can’t do that!”

“I got the okay to do so already. If you do not vacate the bus at the next stop, I will be forced to call for police intervention. Does that sound like something you really want?” Despite the fact that no one remaining on the bus requested the stop, he pulled the bus over and idled in front of the shelter at 27th and Calhoun. He waited with bated breath for the three men to leave, steeling himself for additional pushback. Thankfully, they complied.

Once the bus was in motion again, Mr. FF&B walked forward to sit in the free seat up front. “Thank you.”

“Part of my job.”

“Even still.”

“Pardon my asking, but they don’t look like the type of people to familiarize themselves with pride flags. How did they know?”

“Oh. Yeah, I went on a few dates with the person that lived across the hall from them.”

“So they saw you leaving the guy’s apartment one day?”

“Well her apartment. Angie’s trans, and they harassed her all the time. She eventually had to move.”

Derek nodded. “Some people right?”

“You mean some people are just jerks? Yeah.” Mr. FF&B sat back against the window, and they continued on in companionable silence.

One by one, the remaining passengers left the bus until, as it was every Tuesday and Thursday, only Derek and Mr. FF&B remained. He stopped the bus at 41st and Beaumont. “Well, have a good night.”

“Thanks again, Man. I appreciate it.”

“It’s Derek.”

Mr. FF&B smiled. “Nice to meet you Derek. I’m Stiles.” He extended his hand for a handshake and saw Derek’s smirk. “It’s a nickname. My first name is a Polish mess. I just make things easier this way.”

“Have a good night, Stiles.” Once the doors closed, leaving Derek alone on the bus, he sighed, audibly at that.

He fell asleep that night with the name Stiles on his lips.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

The cold day turned snowy around four, and Derek’s trips had been more full than usual. Stiles hadn’t got on at his usual stop, and Derek wondered, for a moment, if he was sick.

In the month and a half since he’d ejected the HAD Trio, they’d actually chatted a bit more, got to know each other better than just a first name basis. Derek had taken to leaving the driver’s lounge earlier so that he’d arrive to the stop sooner. Stiles, he found, would show up earlier as well, and they could talk uninterrupted for about ten minutes every day. They’d also sit for a few minutes talking at Stiles’ stop on Tuesday and Thursday. Hell, two weeks ago, they exchanged numbers (In a strictly platonic way okay? If by platonic meant, texting back and forth for about an hour every night, then sure--they were just friends).

Derek learned Stiles was a History and Folklore major in his senior year. He learned the guy was a local whose father was county Sheriff. Stiles lived with his best friend, Scott, the other guy Derek occasional saw him ride with. His favorite movie was Star Wars, loved baseball (Hence the Mets mug), and had a major coffee addiction.

In turn, Derek told him about Laura and how they shared her condo downtown. He’d said he didn’t always want to drive a bus, but sort of fell into the job about five years ago and actually loved his job. It paid well, had decent benefits, and he got to meet a lot of people. So, even though he wasn’t much of a talker, he did get to interact with people. They disagreed over baseball teams, and Derek was sad to learn Stiles did not care for basketball at all.

To say he was bummed to have missed Stiles on the trip to class was an understatement. So, imagine his surprise to find Stiles walking into the bus station on campus right on schedule at 08:50 that night. Instead of one coffee cup, he held two.

“Brought you something warm to drink, because you know, the weather sucks.” Stiles handed him the large Starbucks cup. “Chai right?”

Derek accepted the proffered cup and smiled. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”

“Well, seeing as I was getting a coffee for myself, and I knew the driver’s lounge only has coffee of which you’re not a big fan, I thought you’d like something too. It is chai right? Your favorite?”

Derek took a drink. “Yes. Thank you. You weren’t on the bus earlier.”

“Aww, did you miss me?”

He felt his cheeks flame. “I...might have.”

“Well, I was running late and missed the bus. Let me tell you, the driver on the trip after you is a real piece of work. What a jerk.”

“Oh, Harris? Yeah, he’s an ass.”

Stiles chuckled and moved to the middle of the bus, leaving the seats at the front for people who actually needed the accessible seats.

Derek hadn’t actually seen the HAD Trio in weeks. His route was much quieter and friendly for it. However, halfway through the trip, he noticed the guy in the hoodie sitting behind Stiles was the one who gave the man the most grief. He felt his jaw clench.

Derek would have been lying if he said that his little crush had lessened since talking to Stiles. No, Derek was pretty sure he was on the fast track to falling in love with the guy, and now, he just wanted to wrap him in a protective bubble and keep those jerks away from him. Instead of the usual brand of hate speech they directed at Stiles, this time, Derek couldn’t hear a single word of it. The asshole had evolved and kept his voice low and right near Stiles’ ear.

He watched the bright grin disappear from Stiles’ face and turn into one of fear. Derek knew then he would need to intervene at some point on the trip. It made his stomach churn. He was a big guy; he took care of himself, worked out, but Derek did not want to actually get in a fight. Despite being capable, he just did not care for violence.

On the console next to him, his phone lit up. At the next stop, he unlocked the screen to read the message.

**From: Stiles**

**09:31 pm**

**He’s threatening me this time. What should I do? I think if I get off the bus, he might follow me**

Derek quickly sent a response.

_**To: Stiles** _

_**09:35 pm** _

_**Move up here.** _

Stiles listened and took the empty seat behind him but didn’t say a word. Snowy weather always meant more passengers, and tonight was no exception. Derek kept an eye out for the guy and didn’t notice that at some point, he seemed to get off the bus. The threats had obviously unnerved Stiles, and he said little more than a good night when he left.

Just before Derek pulled away from the stop, he heard the rear door open and close. Quickly, he fired off a text to Stiles

**_To: Stiles_ **

**_09:49 pm_ **

**_I think he sneaked off the bus when you got off. Was waiting to find your stop. Cross the street and walk East. I will pick you up after I turn around._ **

Derek had never driven around the block so fast in his life. By the time he made the turn around, the guy had caught up to Stiles. He slowed the bus and opened the doors, fingers ready to grab the handle to the small shovel he kept in the cabinet behind him in case of heavy snow. His preparation was for naught as Stiles flung himself in the bus. Derek closed the door and hurried off as fast as conditions would allow.

Only after he’d driven a couple miles, did he pull over. Stiles held a mitten to his eye, and the other looked like it would be black by morning. Derek grabbed the minor first aid kit he kept in the cabinet. “Let me see.” He could see the cut above Stiles’ eye was bleeding pretty badly (It explained the mitten). “Can I clean out the cut for you, or do you want to?”

Stiles winced. “Go ahead. My hands....” He showed Derek his hands, which trembled from fear, adrenaline, hell probably both. He hissed when Derek swabbed the antiseptic wipe over his cut.

“Yeah, it’s bleeding pretty badly. I think you might need stitches.” Derek opened several large gauze pads, rolled them up, and pressed them to his eye. I can call for EMS to meet us at the garage.”

“You don’t need to do that. It happened off the bus.”

“I probably should report it though. You know for a paper trail if you press charges.”

Stiles laughed. “I don’t even know the guy’s last name.”

Derek grabbed his radio. “Well then I guess it’s good your dad is the sheriff.”

“I don’t need EMS. Save the resources for the actual emergencies that are bound to happen in this weather. I can just go the ER myself.”

He pressed the comm button. “This is driver 6511. I need to report an incident that happened between two passengers once they exited the bus.” He had Stiles fill in the details while he waited for a response.

“Hello 6511. Go ahead.”

“One of my passengers was assaulted at or near his bus stop. I noticed a fellow passenger, whom I’ve had to report before for harassing this same passenger, followed him off the bus.”

“What’s your 20?”

“Heading back to the garage. Concerned for his safety and further danger, I picked up the injured passenger on my turnaround. He doesn’t appear to need emergency attention, but would like to give a statement. Can you have an officer meet us at the garage? Over.” Strictly speaking, Derek had not quite followed policy, but he felt that his actions were justified and he could make a case for himself.

Stiles lay down on the front seats while he drove. “You awake over there?”

“Yeah. I’m just...the blood was getting in my eye.” He groaned. “Fuck, I had so much homework tonight. Now I got to spend it in the ER.”

Derek told him to hang in there and drove. Once he stopped at the garage, he carried Stiles’ bag for him and helped him off the bus. The reaming he expected to get from his supervisor when he arrived did not come. He supposed seeing Stiles’ condition said everything. While Stiles spoke to an officer, Derek filled out his statement and found Stiles sitting on a chair when he finished.

“Hey, do you want a ride to the hospital?”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll just call my dad and wait. He’s on duty tonight anyway.”

Derek sighed. “Come on. You’re my friend, and I can help.” Stiles relented and the ride to the ER passed without another word.

By the time it was Stiles’ turn to be seen, it was almost midnight. From the waiting room, Derek had been embroiled in a text war with his sister fending off her comments about how he was such a hero, make a move, blah blah blah. He loved her, but damn did his sister get annoying sometimes. He yawned, glad he had the next day off.

“You’re still here? You waited?” Stiles poked Derek’s foot with his shoe.

“You’re an awfully long way from home.”

“You waited so you could see if I needed a ride home?” Stiles looked conflicted. “Why?”

Derek shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Eight stitches. But yeah, I’m fine. I called my dad though. He’s like a couple minutes out. So thanks for the offer.”

Derek suddenly felt like a kicked puppy. “Oh. Well then I’ll just let you get going. See you in a couple days.” He patted Stiles on the shoulder and walked towards the door, walking past the Sheriff as he did so. Behind him, he heard Stiles’ dad fussing over him.

“Dad, I’m okay. I’m fine. Dad, stop. It’s just stitches.”

Derek heard footsteps approaching. He turned in time to be crushed in a hug.

“Thank you.” Stiles said into his shoulder. “That could have been…if  you weren’t there...well, thanks.” He stepped back.

Derek gave him a soft smile. It was the perfect opportunity, and he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. Instead, all he could think of were the what if’s. What if he hadn't noticed the back door slamming shut? What if he’d been too late? What if, what if, what if?”

“Sorry, I monopolized your whole evening. You must be pretty tired.”

“Was worth it.”  _Oh come on, Derek. Just say, “I like you...a lot, and I would be heartbroken if something happened to you that I could have stopped.”_

“You do? You would?”

What? It then occurred to Derek that he’d said all that aloud. Oh shit. “Um…” His brain to mouth connection  had broken, and he couldn’t form words.  _Say something, you idiot._ Nope, he just stared at Stiles, mouth open, like a deer in the headlights.

His silence apparently answered Stiles’ questions, and he suddenly felt a pair of warm lips against his own. It took him a second to understand that holy shit, Stiles was kissing him. He felt Stiles stiffen like he realized he’d overstepped a boundary or something, but before he could pull away Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, reveling in the way he fit in them almost perfectly.

Eventually, Stiles broke the kiss. “I thought this was just one-sided.” Derek shook his head. “Um, what do you say I make you dinner tomorrow night if you’re not busy. I’d say let’s go out, but I can’t go on a date looking like this.” He pointed to his face.

Derek ran his thumb against Stiles’ cheek. “I’d like that.”

“I literally live right above the bus stop. Meet you at our usual, say seven?”

“It’s a date.” He kissed Stiles’ forehead and waved as he left.

It was two in the morning by the time he got home. Laura was still awake and hounded him for details when he told her he had a date the next day. Unsatisfied by his evasiveness, she finally asked where, and he said his favorite place in the city:

The corner of 41st & Beaumont.

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me on tumblr  
> captaintinymite.tumblr.com


End file.
